


Future Wounds

by starvonnie



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Major Character Injury, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 05:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13451625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvonnie/pseuds/starvonnie
Summary: Rodimus doesn't follow Megatron's order and ends up horribly injured in battle.  Megatron manages to rescue him and bring him back to the Lost Light.





	Future Wounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazyrobokitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyrobokitty/gifts).



::Rodimus, fall back!:: Megatron yelled through the comm.  ::Wait for back-up!::

Rodimus blew a raspberry.  ::I don’t need back-up.  I’m amazing all on my own.::

::You’re outnumbered!::

::Yeah, well we’re equal rank so I can do what I want.::

Megatron watched, horrified, as more and more enemies converged on Rodimus’ location.  Thunderclash and Magnus would never get there in time.  Drift was preoccupied with a small swarm of his own, while Whirl and Cyclonus were busy with the ones in the air.

Tailgate!

Switching comms, Megatron shouted, ::Tailgate!  What’s your position?::

::Position?  Um.::  The sound of punches landing can be heard through his speaker.  ::I’m not really sure.  See, they’re kinda big and I’m small and—::

Megatron turns his attention back to the screens.  Already he can barely see Rodimus’ flame coloured frame among the hulking brown creatures.  ::I’m ordering you to fall back to Magnus’ position!:: he bellows.

Rodimus didn’t respond, and he’d completely lost sight of him, but then he heard him say through his panting, ::I can handle it!::

::There’s more coming!::

Rodimus growls and shouts back, ::Like I said, I can—::  His comm goes dead.

One moment Megatron is in the captain’s chair in the Rodpod, and the next he’s tearing a swath through the huge organics.  He saw red as his fists made contact.  He pushed every strut in his frame beyond its limits.  Punching.  Kicking.  _Running_.  He didn’t stop for anything.  Not one of them could match his strength, and especially not now.  He felt the fire of his youth in his veins and for once his spark found that bite.

Only once he spied his signature yellow spoiler, now dingy with dirt and soot, did his senses come back to him.  But just barely.  He didn’t feel pain right then.  He _couldn’t_.  Not until he was sure that Rodimus was safe.

Thankfully, Ultra Magnus and Thunderclash did just as he would have ordered and followed the path of destruction.  Either somewhere in his hyper focused state he ordered them to clear them a path, or perhaps the sight of a so-announced pacifist Megatron fighting as though his life depended on it signalled that something had gone horribly wrong.

Not one more of their filthy hands would touch him.  Not one.

Carefully, but swiftly, he lifted Rodimus’ battered and bleeding frame.  He didn’t move.  Didn’t say anything.  His optics stayed closed and didn’t even twitch.

He hurried back, Magnus and Thunderclash still following his unsaid orders to keep their enemies away from their fleeing co-captains.  Both of them cast worried glances Rodimus’ way, but Megatron didn’t see them.  All he saw was Rodimus’ face.  The slack jaw that looked so _wrong_ on his ever-expressive face.  He would have given anything to see that cocksure smile right then.  Hell, even a _scowl_.  Anything that showed that his spark still beat in his dented chest.

He made it back to the Rodpod and ordered the retreat, Rodimus horribly limp in his arms.  On a private comm, he instructed Ultra Magnus to fly them back to the _Lost Light_ , and that he was in command until further notice. 

Megatron found the flattest place he could lay Rodimus down that was close to the exit.  As soon as the Rodpod’s feet touched the shuttle bay floor, he would make a beeline for the medibay.  Ratchet could fix him.  Ratchet could fix _anything_.

 _Idiotic_ , Rodimus.  Disobeying him.  Taking stupid risks.  If this ended up being some harebrained scheme to both get him away from Thunderclash _and_ make himself look good, Megatron might have to kill him himself.

“Do your jobs!” Megatron barked at any and all who crowded Rodimus.

The time it took them to get back on the _Lost Light_ felt as though it lasted an eternity.  Rodimus’ biolights flickered and dimmed and Megatron prayed to whoever might be listening, if anyone, to keep them lit until Ratchet could get to him. 

They just had to get back.

They just had to get back.

Just as swiftly as on the battlefield, Megatron ran to the medibay.  He felt like bashing his own helm in when he realized he’d forgotten to alert Ratchet to the situation, but he was there, waiting, when the ships’ co-captains arrived.  Ratchet rushed him into the operating room, and then came the true eternity.

Megatron checked the clock incessantly.  So much so that sometimes he had to do a double take, thinking the hands had turned back somehow.  He alternated between that, pacing restlessly, and staring at the light above the operating room door until his optics stung.

When finally, _finally_ , the door opened, he waited with bated breath for Ratchet to speak.

“I’ve done what I can,” Ratchet said.  He couldn’t hold Megatron’s gaze.

Megatron surged past him.  He went right to Rodimus, laying unconscious with a plethora of tubes and wires attached to his frame from varying places.

“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me when I order you to fall back!” Megatron bellowed. 

Ratchet came running in, ready to chew Megatron out, but he found him in the chair beside the berth with his helm in his hands, and with Rodimus still unconscious.  Completely oblivious to his outburst.

“You should get some rest,” Ratchet suggested gently.  “I’ll let you know if his condition changes.”

Megatron lifted his helm just enough to shake it.  “I’m staying here.”

“Megatron—”

“I’m staying here!”

Ratchet narrowed his optics but left him be.

Time stretched out again.  Not as silent as the time before; this time he had Rodimus’ spark monitor to keep him company.

_Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  Beep._

“I should have been there with you,” Megatron spoke quietly.  “Pacifism...”  He scoffed.  “Like I could ever give up violence.  It molded me, for better or worse.”  He sighed and put his hand on Rodimus’.  “I will always follow you into battle.  We will face our enemies together.  But I can’t do that if you don’t wake up.”

_Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  Beep._

“Give me a sign?” he begged.  “Anything.  Move your pede.  Your finger.  _Anything_.”

_Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  Beep._

He sighed again, this one long and drawn out.  All the energy and strength he’d felt when he’d saved Rodimus fled his frame.  He rested his helm on the berth and fell into fitful recharge.

He woke with a start once to a dark medibay.  He ventilated raggedly, his spark finding a twisted peace in the loud beeping of his spark monitor.  His dream had not been as kind as reality, and he sighed with relief, giving Rodimus’ hand a squeeze.  He hoped despite everything that this single touch would magically reawaken his Prime.  But life was not kind and worked no miracles.  If Rodimus was to awake—and he _would_ —it would be when his frame was ready and no sooner.

The clock ticked on.  The spark monitor beeped.

_Tick.  Beep.  Tock.  Beep.  Tick.  Beep.  Tock.  Beep._

Sleep claimed Megatron once more.

 

“Mm… Megatron?”

His name spoken aloud brought him from fast asleep to wide awake in a split second.  He blinked a few times to make sure he truly was awake, because Rodimus watched him with bleary optics and a small smile.

“Hey.”

“Don’t you _ever_ pull a stunt like that again!” Megatron berated him.

“Aw…”  Rodimus’ voice was sluggish.  “Were you worried about me?”

Megatron said nothing, but he brought Rodimus’ hand to his lips, giving it a kiss.  His optics scrunched up with pain, knowing how close he’d come to losing him.  He kissed every finger.  Then his palm.  Then the back of his hand.  And then he intertwined their fingers again and kissed him on the lips.

“Were you just trying to show off?” Megatron asked, still _furious_ with him.

Rodimus turned his helm away.

“We could have won if you’d followed my orders.  I had to call for a retreat so we could take you back to Ratchet.”

Rodimus shrugged.  “I would’ve been fine.”

“You almost _died_ , Rodimus!”  Megatron buried his face against his chest, feeling as Rodimus’ spark beat in tandem with the horrible and yet beautiful beep of the monitor.  In a much quieter tone, he said, “What’s left for me in this world beyond you?”

“Aw, c’mon, Megs, it…”  Rodimus trailed off.  “It takes more than that to keep me down, y’know?  I…”  He hugged the now-shaking Megatron to him.  “I’m sorry I worried you.  But I’m okay.”

He felt Rodimus’ gentle strokes on his back.

“When I give an order, I give it for good reason,” Megatron said.

“… I know.  I was dumb.”

Megatron sat up slowly, gazing at Rodimus with relief and love in his optics.  He cupped his cheek and stroked one of his finials, stopping when Rodimus hissed with pain.

“Damn… they really did a number on me, huh?”  Rodimus looked over his battered frame.  He met Megatron’s gaze shortly after.  “I’ll trust you next time.”

Many thoughts bubbled to the surface of Megatron’s processor.  That he shouldn’t trust him.  Shouldn’t love him.  That Megatron shouldn’t even _be_ here.  Shouldn’t be allowed to touch him or call him his own.  Not with his own fate laid out so clearly before him while Rodimus’ stretched on further into the unknown; a path Megatron could not take with him.

“You don’t get to die on me either,” Rodimus whispered.  With his words came a knowing dimness to his optics.  He knew.  They both knew.  “So you stay safe too, ‘kay?”

Megatron’s optics dimmed, too.  The happiness of knowing Rodimus would be okay fizzled out.  Hearing him lying to himself—lying for _both_ of them—it cut deep.  He didn’t want to have to talk about the inevitable.  To bring up once again what they both knew.  Rodimus had enough pain to deal with right now.

“I will stay as safe as I can, my love.”

Rodimus smiled weakly.  It was a bit forced, but its foundations sat upon something genuine.  And that was enough, for now.  They were both alive.  They were both safe.  For the immediate future, they knew what was in store.  More life.  More love.  And they kept this knowledge close to their sparks.  Though they both knew the sad and tragic ending to their love story, it was enriching enough to want to see it through.


End file.
